We tied garbage bags around our waists and sat on the ice that covered the sidewalk and streets as far as we could see. Michele and I locked our gloved hands together.
“We can do this,” she said.
“We can do this,” I repeated, less sure we could do this, but at this point, 5 snowed in days in our apartment anything was worth trying. We had run out of food that morning.
When we signed the lease on our apartment, our first real adult home that wasn’t a dorm or a house someone else paid for, we didn’t think anything about the hill it sat on. A hill we climbed everyday to get home, a hill we descended every time we needed groceries since the closest store that wasn’t the creepy guy at the bodega who cat called and pinched butts was the stop and shop at the bottom of the hill. Assault for some fruit and veggies or makeshift garbage diapers?
Garbage diapers FTW.
I’d seen my sister do this to go sledding without a sled. We scrounged out our last 2 hefty bags and went out into the icy city determined to make it to stop and shop without dying.
We dug our heels in and pilled our butts to the edge and let gravity do its thing. Michele was lighter and longer and despite our hand holding she fell ahead of me.
“Let go!” I yelled. “I’m only going to hold you back! Lift your legs!”
“No!” She gripped my hand tighter. “I refuse to die alone!”
I opened my fingers and she lost her grip and somehow turned herself around to face me.
“It’s going to be ok!” I yelled. “I love you! If you make it, don’t forget the milk!”